


Rhythm in Blue

by Superstitious



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Crush at First Sight, Crushes, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Idiots in Love, Love at First Sight, M/M, Missed Connections, Mutual Pining, Pining, Precious Peter Parker, Soft Boys, Soft Peter Parker, Stark Industries, Strangers to Lovers, peter parker is determined
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-05 21:01:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20495273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Superstitious/pseuds/Superstitious
Summary: At the same time every morning, Peter takes the 4 train from his apartment in FiDi to Stark Industries. He enjoys his position as a wallflower, ogling attractive men on the subway from afar, but a new face makes Peter reconsider his methods. Maybe, just maybe, it was time for this wallflower to bloom.AKA: The 5 times Peter Parker pined from across a subway car and the 1 time he didn’t.





	Rhythm in Blue

**Author's Note:**

> While reading consider listening to:
> 
> \- I Should Go by Levi Kreis  
\- The Night We Met by Lord Huron  
\- Creep by Radiohead  
\- Secrets by OneRepublic
> 
> Thanks @maywilder for some of the song recs.

**1.**

The automatic doors slid shut beside Peter with a ‘whoosh.’ He sat down, rested his head against the wall mounted ad behind him and closed his eyes. Music flowed from Peter’s earbuds into his brain as the vibrations of the ride lulled him half to sleep. The glare of the overheads provided a boundary between Peter and slumber as blue lighting flooded the car interior, too stark for the morning.

After a half-decade of the same 7 am commute, his body still couldn’t adjust to waking up at dawn. Like clockwork, Peter’s alarm would go off at 5 to start a new day and, like clockwork, his joints would crack in protest of getting out of bed. With minimal energy, his brain willed its vessel toward the shower. The only motivation to a cruel morning routine was making it to Stark Industries with time to spare for coffee. In his undergrad, Peter had despised routines. Now, they governed his entire life.

The train stopped more abruptly than normal. As the brakes shrieked, Peter jostled the woman next to him.

“Sorry,” he mumbled into the empty space between them while rubbing his weary eyes. The woman shifted but said nothing.

Peter perused each face entering his subway car. Most were regulars with a few newcomers mixed in. To keep himself from completely drifting off, Peter liked to observe the passengers around him. Fictitious backstories were created for each to keep his mind active. One was a devoted husband and father of three, another the CEO of a fortune five-hundred company with her red-bottom heels. Bonus points were when a passenger was exceptionally attractive, which was quite often. There was never a shortage of handsome men, and Peter was more than content with being a wallflower, always watching from afar. From hipsters to young professionals, Peter appreciated them all in contented silence.

As the car doors began to close once more, Peter caught movement from the corner of his eye. A man slipped through quicker than most people would in the morning. Once inside, he shuffled toward a pocket of empty space and gripped the pole closest to him. Peter snuck passing glances to keep an eye on him, suddenly more alert than he was previously.

This was a new face on his morning commute. Peter slowly took in the man’s appearance bottom to top as he tried to create the man’s made-up life. Generic, brown loafers could mean anything. The navy slacks and pressed oxford? Company man for sure. A bomber jacket casually slung over his arm said, ‘business casual.’ Definitely some paper-pusher for a no-name company. An attractive paper pusher, but paper pusher nonetheless.

The man’s left hand held on to the pole tightly while the other combed through disheveled, sand colored hair. His head abruptly turned, as if sensing a pair of lingering eyes. Peter ducked his head as he’d done many times before, pretending to adjust his earbud. His heartbeat sped up at the thought of being caught. Before he turned away from the other man, a flash of color had caught Peter’s attention. He smiled to himself, like a schoolgirl with a crush.

The stranger’s eyes were the brightest shade of blue.

**2.**

Peter was sitting with his head once again resting against the cool glass, eyes drooping shut to the lull of the train car. It had been exceptionally hard to wake up after working so late in the labs the night previous. An upbeat tempo, the antithesis to Peter's mood, entered his eardrums while he sat. The face of every passenger was scanned as they boarded the train but, despite his best efforts, Peter was uninterested in creating false biographies for his fellow commuters.

At the Chambers Street stop, Peter’s mystery man expertly weaved through the crowded train car. His height ensured sand-colored locks were visible over the heads of other passengers. Peter perked up a little upon seeing the stranger once more. The man fought his way through a sea of bodies packed like sardines. Peter sympathized. This is exactly why he went out of his way to get a seat, feeling far too uncomfortable surrounded by strangers if he stood. The awkward, upright position coupled with bodies pressed too close was not what Peter needed early in the morning.

Subtly readjusting himself in the seat, Peter leaned forward so his elbows were on his knees and his phone rested between both hands. Bowing his head just so, Peter could pretend to be preoccupied with his screen while flickering his gaze toward his mystery man every so often. He seemed young, probably only a little older than Peter. Today, glasses framed his baby blues. Maybe he was a recent graduate just like Peter, just trying to make his way in the world.

Eyeing the subway professional for a little longer, Peter closed his eyes again until the next station. While watching the ebb and flow of new passengers his gaze strayed toward his favorite stranger. Upon finding a pair of blue eyes staring back at him, a blush bloomed across Peter’s cheekbones while his stomach did flips. A small smile was offered up out of force of habit. In return, the man quirked an eyebrow before looking away.

_Idiot_. Peter scrubbed a hand over his face and mentally berated himself. The awkward interaction left him feeling more awake. Having completely given up on guessing the lives of commuters around him, Peter idly scrolled through his Spotify playlists. The rhythmic movements of the subway gradually relaxed him and, before long, his eyes found themselves wandering once again. Casting his gaze to the left, Peter caught the blonde hastily turning away. Now, the handsome stranger was staring out the car’s window into the blackness of the underground.

_Was he…_

Impossible. Peter was the one who stared, never the one being stared at. It was just a trick of the light coupled with his sleep-deprived mind. The thought of potential attention still made Peter smile inwardly, heart drumming faster to a new tune in his ribcage. Feeling bold, he chanced a final glance at the attractive man. Peter’s heart sank a little upon seeing him preoccupied with his phone.

Peter sighed and leaned his head back against the glass clad advertisement, eyes open this time, as fluorescent blue lighting spilled down from above.

**3.**

There was an extra pep to Peter’s step as he boarded the 4 train, fingers kneading the backpack strap digging into his shoulder. For the past few days, the handsome stranger hadn’t been on the subway. Peter liked to stay positive and theorized that the man had simply gotten into a different train car the previous mornings. He took off his bag and set it between his feet, sitting in his usual seat on the end. Peter took out his phone and opened the Outlook app.

Work at Stark Industries had picked up drastically. Every morning greeted Peter with upwards of fifty emails sent the night before. As of late, he liked responding to them during his subway ride to keep his mind occupied. No longer was Peter invested in the imaginary lives of those around him.

In the swirl of memos, he didn’t realize the subway had stopped until the air around him turned significantly denser. Peter became acutely aware of more people crowding around him, but his typing speed didn’t falter for a second. Not while strangers jostled his bag, knocked into his knees or stepped on his toes, Peter’s fingers flew over the keyboard, unperturbed. It wasn’t until a familiar pair of brown loafers came into view that his fingers halted mid-type.

Peter sucked in a breath.

Shaking his head, the typing continued; business as usual. It wasn’t until a few minutes later, when the overhead lights flickered ominously, that Peter looked up. He forgot all about the defective lights as his subway stranger came into view. Standing directly over Peter, the man’s left hand clutched the rail above their heads while his right held a smartphone. His piercing gaze looked down at Peter.

Caught in a sea of blue, he was a drowning man.

Peter felt like ice cold water had been poured over him. He was more awake than he had been in ages. A warm blush spread across his face as he averted his gaze from the other man. Reassessing the situation from behind his phone screen, Peter noticed that there was barely any space between them. The gentle rocking of the train only brought them closer together. The man’s standing position to Peter’s seated one only made him feel more awkward in their proximity.

He chanced another glance up at the stranger. As if reading his mind, the man offered Peter a sheepish smile when their eyes met. _Sorry_. Before he could stop himself, Peter’s teeth started worrying his bottom lip while their gazes remained locked. It was a nervous habit he couldn’t quite shake. The man’s eyes widened a little at the gesture and Peter’s mind wandered to the gutter.

Blue eyes turned away from Peter and just like that, the spell was broken. The man cleared his throat and shifted above him. Peter's blush deepened. He looked back down at his phone screen, emails long forgotten. Beads of perspiration collected at the collar of his shirt and underneath his jacket while ringing in his ears reminded Peter to breathe. Neither affliction was caused by the stale, soupy air of the crowded train car.

The time between stops was spent calming himself down, since Peter dared not look up again the rest of his ride. Peter bolted off the subway the second they pulled into Grand Central Station. At least five people were trampled in his haste, but it was worth it to be free of the suffocating underground.

During the next few subway rides, the stranger resumed his position on the other side of the car and Peter’s eyes didn’t dare wander.

**4.**

Since the dawn of time, Peter always sat down during the morning commute. His stop being earlier on the line ensured a seat next to the doors for easy enter and exit. Today, however, Peter was standing. His nerves buzzed and kept the fog of sleep at bay. Something as simple as standing on the subway felt like a breach in his normal routine. Nevertheless, Peter stood, backpack nestled between his feet, rocking back and forth to the rhythm of the subway. A metal pole was all that kept him upright.

He tried to focus on the soft pop music filtering into his ears to forget about the barricade of people surrounding him on all sides. Being part of the mob meant that the sounds and smells of the subway car were ten times more potent. It almost made Peter lightheaded. Lost in thought, he was unprepared for the train’s abrupt stop and bumped into the man behind him.

“Sorry,” Peter muttered. It was probably too soft to be heard, but he hadn’t the care to raise his voice.

The subway doors whooshed open and more people poured into the train car, reducing what little space Peter had to himself. He drew his phone closer to his body while his right hand tightened its grip on the pole. Looking around as the newcomers boarded, Peter quickly spotted his handsome stranger. The man’s tall stature elevated him above majority of the passengers. Before he could catch the man’s eye, Peter glanced away.

Peter turned his attention back to Outlook, but his thoughts were once more on the stranger. He tried and failed to imagine what his story could possibly be. Preoccupied, he didn’t see the hand that grasped at his subway pole, but rather felt it. A pair of familiar, brown loafers came into view while Peter looked down at his phone. He sighed when the scent of cologne teased his olfactory system. If Peter looked up, he’d surely find himself face to face with the blue-eyed subway stranger. Their hands were millimetres apart as they both held onto the metal pole for stability. Something fluttered inside Peter’s chest.

Sweaty palms caused his grip on the pole to loosen. Nerves had him shuffling from foot to foot. Mid-shuffle, the subway turned and threw Peter off kilter. Someone reached out to stabilize him, but the movement was overshadowed by the man behind Peter swearing as he was jostled once more. Peter turned to unleash a flurry of apologies.

Turning back around, he became aware of a heavy weight on his shoulder. His attention turned to a warm palm resting comfortably there. Following the appendage, Peter’s traveling gaze was halted when it met blue eyes. His subway stranger. “Uh…thanks,” he stammered out.

The other man nodded before retracting his grip. Peter’s shoulder was still warm from the contact. He placed his hand back on the pole at the same time as the handsome stranger. Their hands brushed together. Peter panicked a little. Sneaking a glance at the other man, he found him engrossed in his phone. Reassured, Peter allowed his hand to remain in its position on the pole. The warmth radiating from the stranger’s hand was a reminder of how close the two of them were.

Peter took a deep breath. His senses were immediately filled with the scent of the other man’s cologne; an assault of vanilla, apple and something woodsy Peter couldn’t quite place. It smelled divine – it smelled like home.

Peter sighed contentedly as the subway rolled on.

**5.**

It was only Monday and Peter’s week was already shit. His phone died from being forgotten overnight, so the alarm never went off at 5 am. After speeding through his morning routine and jogging to Fulton Street Station, Peter was lucky to make the 7:27 train. At least he wouldn’t be terribly late to work. Beads of sweat rolled down his neck while Peter forced his way into the corner of the crowded train car, uncomfortably warm underneath his jacket.

In his heart, Peter knew that his handsome stranger wouldn’t be on the subway, but he still looked around just to make sure. A quick sweep of the train car came up empty and Peter glanced down at his watch. At this rate, there was no way he’d be able to stop for his morning coffee. His brow furrowed; Peter was allowed to be sweaty, un-caffeinated and grumpy first thing in the morning, but he could not be late. It took three summers of interning at the New York branch of Stark Industries to land a full-time position post-grad. Peter was so close to completing his exemplary first year as an official employee and refused to make mistakes this late in the game.

Foot tapping to a furious tempo for the entire train ride, Peter was nothing but a bundle of nerves. He willed time to slow down with his mind as each second sped by. Peter hit the ground running as soon as the train doors opened at Grand Central. He burst out of the station and onto the bustling streets of New York. Speed walking the next three blocks to Stark Industries, he attempted to fix his rumpled outfit on the way.

“Hold the door, please!” Peter wasn’t frantically running through the lobby of Stark Industries towards the elevators. No, he was simply walking at a determined pace.

Before the golden embossed doors closed and took Peter’s perfect attendance record with them, a hand shot out. The leather briefcase in the man’s hand banged against the doors as they retracted. Peter exhaled in relief and slid into the spacious lift, elbowing a few people behind him on his way. He looked at the buttons and saw his floor number already lit up.

“Thanks, you really saved me there…” Peter trailed off, breathless, as he turned toward the man who held the elevator for him.

_No fucking way_, Peter thought to himself. He was face to face with his subway stranger. The handsome stranger who held a briefcase in one hand and coffee from the hipster café down the street in the other. Who apparently worked at Stark Industries with Peter.

The man broke into a lopsided smile as a look of recognition flashed across his face. Peter remained gob smacked. Before he could speak, the ‘ding’ of the elevator alerted them both that people needed to exit the lift. Peter shot one last, desperate glance at the attractive man before he was pushed to the other side of the elevator. Four people got off and seemingly hundreds more piled on. It felt a lot like being on the subway.

Peter spent the next ten floors shamelessly staring at his mystery man from across the elevator as his mind reeled. An entirely new light had been shed on Peter’s image of the stranger.

**+1**

After seeing his subway stranger in the elevator, Peter spent the rest of the workday trying to “accidentally” run into him again. This was also why Peter didn’t leave his lab until much later than usual. Mystery man hadn’t gotten off the elevator before him, meaning he worked on one of the above floors. Peter devoted so much time to walking around the upper floors like an idiot with a purpose that he had let his work slip.

Not finishing his project until 7:30 meant Peter was waiting in Grand Central for a later train to take him back home to FiDi. His earbuds were in and his mind lost deep in thought when a presence made itself known to Peter’s right. Someone was standing beside him, a little closer than necessary.

Peter looked out of the corner of his eye at the figure next to him and internally screamed. At this point, he was either being stalked or all of his good karma cashed in on one day. Between the AirPods and rapid texting, it didn’t seem like Peter’s handsome stranger noticed him.

The departures board above told Peter that he had three minutes until the 4 train came. He licked his lips and he shifted from foot to foot, nerves buzzing beneath his skin. A feeling of ‘now or never’ overtook his body. Peter couldn’t gamble on the other man taking the 4 train home, or ever having the opportunity of meeting when they weren’t in a crowded train car.

Beside Peter, the man pocketed his phone and stared ahead. His head gently bobbed to whatever music was playing through his earbuds. If Peter wanted to act, now was the perfect time. His teeth began gnawing on his lower lip of their own volition. Back and forth Peter’s eyes slid between the electronic numbers counting down above to the man standing beside.

As his subway stranger looked down at his watch and frowned, Peter made up his mind. No longer would he wonder wistfully from afar; this dream was about to become a reality. The man moved to turn away and Peter blurted out, “Peter! My name is Peter Parker.”

He held out a hand towards the stranger as dark brown met ocean blue. Peter’s surprise was mirrored in the other man’s expression. Neither could believe Peter had just done that.

“Harley Keener,” the other man – Harley – said with a grin as he shook Peter’s outstretched hand. Peter blushed a little when Harley’s hand enveloped his. The full contact was overwhelming when coupled with his adrenaline rush. “Did you make it in on time this morning?”

Peter’s smile widened impossibly further. He probably looked like an idiot, smiling like a loon on the subway platform, but he couldn’t be bothered to care because Harley remembered him. “Yeah, thanks for holding the elevator for me.” Peter ducked his head when he felt warmth spread across his face. “I definitely owe you one.”

“Maybe you can give me your number, for starters?” Harley chuckled before continuing, “This way, I don’t have to keep watching you from across a subway car like a creep every morning.”

A laugh bubbled up, erupting from Peter as he let out a sigh of relief. “I thought you’d never ask.”

**Author's Note:**

> Geez, after two angst fics back to back I was ready for some fluff.
> 
> If you liked the story, feel free to leave a comment, kudos or bookmark!
> 
> @Spooky-Parker on Tumblr


End file.
